Let’s Cross The Bridge When We Get There

My colleague asked me as I quietly stared off into the distance while we were manning our office showroom one day.

“What? I’m not sad,” I replied with a meek smile, my eyebrows knotting to show my bemusement over his remark.

“Oh,” he said disbelievingly, and strolled off to do his business.

I frowned. I didn’t get it. What was it that prompted him to say that? I wasn’t feeling particularly sad at the time. So what was it that he saw on my face to make him think I was?

What’s even more strange is the fact that everyone’s been asking me that very same question as of late. And the weird thing is, I don’t feel sad at all. Sure, I wasn’t exactly jumping up and down with joy, but that doesn’t mean I’m sad either. I guess if I had to classify where my emotions lie, I’m… neutral.

But is there even such a thing? When it comes to happiness and sadness, is there actually a gray area, or just plain black and white? Could it be that I’m actually sad without my knowing it? Because really, why wasn’t I jumping up and down with joy in the first place?

Normally, this is where I tell myself, “Because I’m not a lunatic, asshole!” But this time, I find myself pushing my usual expletives aside to make way for wonderment. If everyone thought I was sad whenever they would see me, is it possible that deep down, in the very bowels of my twisted soul, I’m actually… sad?